Word or Phrase

December 17 Word or phrase: 2009 was lovely.

2 in 1: Packaging and Tea of the Year

Whoops - missed yesterday's Best of 09 prompt. And am now running off to buy the right size of knitting needles for a project I'm about to start.

December 15 Best Packaging: A friend of mine was staying with me, and he drank one of those little bottles of Glenfiddich that comes in the tiny cardboard cylinder. He left behind the cylinder, which I immediately recognized as the perfect chopstick holder. It's about 2 inches in diameter, and about 5 inches high, and while it's obviously a whiskey container, I've been on the lookout for the perfect decorative paper to hide its provenance and doll it up a bit.

December 16 Tea of the Year: ...I love tea. I haven't discovered anything that has absolutely rocked my world this year, so I'm going to go with the classic favourite, Earl Grey. I tried it with lemon and honey for the first time this year, and it was delicious. But usually I'll go for just milk. And a cookie.

It's not chocolate, but...

The Hubble Space Telescope Advent Calendar is an awesome way to count down to December 25th, whatever that day means (or doesn't) to you.

Rush

December 14 Rush. When did you get your best rush of the year?

I'm thinking back and realizing that this has, for the most part, been a really relaxed year. The good thing about that is I haven't had any real lows, but I haven't had many high highs, either.

Okay, after thinking about this for a few minutes, I am going to go with: stepping off the plane, by myself, in Montreal. I've traveled alone before, and I highly recommend it, because the fear adds to the excitement and the relief of realizing that you are fine, and you are capable of navigating new terrain. I was only by myself for about an hour, between getting off the plane and arriving by shuttle at the bus station where I was met by Kat's lovely friend Lauren. I spent that hour (and the next few days) surrounded by newness, and I absolutely love that feeling (that rush) of knowing that I am seeing or doing something for the first time.

When it comes down to it, I look back at my life and so many of those rushes I can remember are associated with travel. All of my senses are engaged with the new places I go - I feel myself expanding with tastes and smells and sights and sounds and feelings. So a thought for 2010 (and the rest of 2009): seek out more of these experiences, even at home. Try new dishes at new restaurants, seek out new neighbourhoods, try new things. Try to bring that complete sensory awareness to my everyday life. Feel more rushes.

Catching up to the best of 2009: the best change I've made to my home

I haven't been blogging much. I've been feeling this two way pull between wanting to write more, but wanting to write more extensively (bigger ideas, more research and time and thought dedicated to posts) - which means that the little things that I usually post about feel insubstantial and get lost, but I don't actually write the long things, and so I don't write. I've decided enough is enough. I've been thinking for a long time about developing a group culture blog, something where my more substantial posts can go without feeling the pressure of having to post something every day, but I still love my little nook here, so I'm going to try to just post things without worrying that they aren't smart or interesting enough. I'm smart and interesting!

So, as a jump start, I'm going to try the best of 2009 blog challenge (discovered via Mennogirl's post), which immediately intrigued me. I'm a little bit behind (there is a post for each day in December), but here goes:

December 13 What's the best change you made to the place you live?

I'm so happy to be back in my little suite at King's (for anyone who isn't aware of this, I have a job that I love in residence at a small university in Halifax. The only downside is I don't have my own kitchen. Oh yeah, and I can't have a pet. Oh - and people can be really loud when they drink.). I have just enough space for me, with a big window that looks out onto the quad where I can watch the leaves change and the snow fall and the magnolia tree bloom. It came fully furnished , and the furniture I have is not what I would call my style. A big maroon couch and a maroon and gold chair, with mismatched wood shelves and drawers and cabinets. Still, it feels homey and bright and comfy, which is most important to me.

Being that I am a grad student, and that most of my money goes to school related expenses (tuition, coffee, beer, thai food), and also that Halifax is most likely not my permanent home base, I haven't spent a lot of time or money on decor. I also really appreciate... sparseness. Not in a cold, clinical way - it's just that I don't go for things that aren't perfect (according to my sensibilities). I want one perfect thing, not a bunch of random things I think are pretty cute. This year I decided that I needed to inject slightly more of my personality into my home, but in a way that would go with my inherited furniture. I managed to find two pieces (don't I sound professional?) that go well with the current feel, but make it feel more like home and a little more me.

I lived without cushions for the first year I spent here. I couldn't find anything that went well with this weird maroon and gold theme, so despite the fact that I love cushions (especially for cuddling when I watch movies), I went without. This year I decided that had to change. Wandering through the Superstore (my favourite store ever, although I can never actually find clothes I want to buy), I came across a set of red and purple graphic print cushions for... $15 I think? It was one of the best finds ever. They wouldn't necessarily be what I would choose if I were starting from scratch, but they are actually quite suited to my style, and they go with the rest of the stuff in my living room. Yay. Plus, they make perfect laptop perches when I am sitting on my couch (a la now).

I also bought a framed Tree/Buddha print from Winners for $20 that now sits on my bookshelf and adds some interest/texture.

And probably my favourite change to my home is not actually one I made. It is thanks to one of my favourite people, who knew I was in love with a ridiculously expensive candle from Aveda (apparently they only sell them over the winter holidays), and surprised me with it for no good reason. It was the best, most surprising gift, and I was giddy for days. Honestly, it smells so good. I'm addicted. I light it and my whole room smells like warmth and love and spice. Pretty much everyone who comes in comments on how good it smells, even hours after the candle has been put out. I was never much of a candle person before, but this candle makes my home feel so much more... homey. Ha. Sensuous. Warm. Relaxed. All of the best things.

Despite the fact that it is nothing like the home I would create with unlimited (or even slightly less limited) time and funds, it is my perfect little nest for now. I love being here. That feels so good to say.

Anchor Archive Zine Library

photo by flickr user lyndall musselman

Yesterday was completely rejuvenating.

While my roots are firmly planted in punk rock, I've been feeling old and staid lately. This is mostly because I no longer delight in standing and head-bobbing (or even dancing) at shows that are crowded and late at night; I would almost always rather be eating cheese and talking with friends in a cozy living room, or reading, or even (gasp) sleeping. I despaired in my facebook status the other day about the fact that I think I look more conservative than I really am. My hair hasn't been a colour other than its own natural brownish shade for at least two years (which could not have been said for it between the ages of 12 and 25). I have a typical grad student uniform of jeans and t-shirts and cardigans. I have no tattoos (yet) or other distinguishing marks that can call out for me, "Hey! I'm rad! I like the same obscure awesome things you do!" Does any of this matter? No. Does it feel like it does? A little.

Yesterday I visited the Anchor Archive Zine Library. A tiny, ramshackle little space that abounds with energy and verve and personality, the kind that I've felt to be a little lacking from my everyday existence. I've been spending so much time with my computer and blogs and google and online databases and so on and so forth, that it was incredibly nice to be surrounded by paper. I spent an hour or so being trained in how to catalogue the zines, and then I set to work going through them. I love zines. I love that people can put their stories onto paper and send them out into the world and we can share them and pass them on and draw and create - and they don't have to be epic. Just stories and thoughts and drawings and ideas.

It was a reminder of that sense of community I found when I was 14 and going to shows all the time. A reminder that I should be using my hands more - and not just for typing. A reminder that the world doesn't end outside my neighbourhood - there are amazing people doing amazing things everywhere.

The fact that zine libraries even exist has just brightened my existence considerably. Plus, I now get to add "Zine Librarian" to my resume - and I so will.

So: if you're in Halifax - go check out the Anchor Archive Zine Library. If you're outside of Halifax and you have copies of your zines (you know who you are), send them in! We don't need to be famous novelists to write and share and connect. Just write something down and let someone else read it.

This is stunningly, awesomely beautiful.

Also: I'm done school (for the semester)! Any awesome things (that don't cost money) that I should be spending my time with (according to you)?

(Video found via BOOOOOOOM.)

photo by flickr user applejan

I've been thinking in fragments lately.

Not sure what it means.

Or why.

I write letters that are line, then line, then line.

I like it.

Mostly.

(And I want one of these.)

Somewhere I would like to be tonight

Watching Lauren Ambrose with her band, the Leisure Class, play their first show in New York.

I recently rewatched all of Six Feet Under, a part of my favourite show trifecta (the others being the West Wing and Friday Night Lights). I love Claire. Yes, she's moody and annoying and self-centred, but I still love her.

Here is a perfect (fitting) moment from Six Feet Under:

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

I had my first ever book club meeting today. I can't think of very many things better than eating and talking about books. Well, reading is one of the things I can think of.

Our first pick was Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. For some reason (and I should learn my lesson, because this happens over and over again in life) I didn't think I would really like it, but I couldn't have been more wrong. The story follows Oskar Schell, a nine-year-old New Yorker whose father was killed in the World Trade Centre attack. Oskar is ridiculously intelligent, literal, awkward, anxious, thoughtful - among the most neurotic fictional characters, I've ever encountered, child or otherwise. The book jumps between characters and times, language and writing styles, and makes use of images. I wasn't sure these literary techniques would serve any purpose but novelty, but there are so many beautiful moments, and every word (and picture) helps define the emotions and the characters so precisely, that I ended up cherishing the little things I thought would annoy me (including Oskar).

This book is about grief. It's about the fact that every single person is grieving something, and that we carry that around with us forever. There was some discussion of whether this was a depressing book; for me it absolutely wasn't. It was a sad book sometimes, yes. But I felt hopeful, realizing that we have all lost people and things, but we are still able to make new connections, and still able to love - not just able, but we can't help it.

8.6/10. (Yes, that is my way of giving it an A.)

Side note: In the book, Oskar finds a mysterious key in an envelope marked only with the word "Black." He decides to speak to everyone in New York with the last name of Black, to see if someone can help him figure out what the key is for. In this adorable video, Jonathan Safran Foer sets out to recreate his protagonist's quest. Sort of.